The Actors of Baker Street
by Brinatello
Summary: A ten year-old theatre patron and her governess visit the famous detective to seek his help on a robbery within their home. Basil quickly takes the case, but soon learns the child has another reason for accompanying her mistress.


The Actors of Baker Street  
By Brinatello

**Disclaimer: Aside from my own original characters, Basil and Dr. Dawson are property of Disney and are from the 26th animated feature, **_**The Great Mouse Detective**_** as well as the Basil of Baker Street series by Eve Titus.**

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It's often been said by many mice that the theatre lost a great actor when Basil of Baker Street became a world renowned sleuth of London's dark city. After the Flaversham case and saving Her Majesty from Professor Ratigan, the reputation of this genius of a mouse escalated higher then that of any famous actor of the stage. Even the start of the silent era of the cinema, such mice were not as well known as the great private consulting detective. With so much fame to his name, one would think he was an actor after all. The attention had not only been shown toward everyone that praised him, he had increasingly become a role model of the younger generation. The teacher of the schoolhouse within the Holmestead community had once asked him to appear as a special guest for her pupils. Before he could protest, he was reminded he would be disappointing a large number of children whom have idolized him ever since he first appeared in the public eye as a private eye.

Basil's newest case had just closed involving an amusing pair of a ten year-old theatre lover and her elderly governess. The two arrived in need of the detective's assistance when a recent robbery occurred of large sums of stolen bank notes. The mother lost the battle to cholera, leaving her husband to raise their single daughter. Her death may have caused him to turn bitter and a more strict businessman. To keep his emotions and any other weaknesses hidden within, he began working longer hours in the Royal Bank of Scotland. His residence consisted of himself, his daughter, and the governess along with a fourth: an elderly butler at a home located in the City of Westminster. Both Basil and Dawson checked the local maps and found the mice neighbored The Royal Albert Hall, a second home as far as the young daughter was concerned. Although her weekly allowance was a meager amount of shillings, she saved enough to attend as many plays, ballet, opera, and other musical performances. This meant she was no stranger to meeting famous mice of the cultural world and her autograph book was full of many signatures of those she went to see.

The detective had no other cases at the moment. He was prepared to start the investigation of the robbery the moment the two ladies arrived in the late afternoon hours. He began his usual way of listening to every detail that could be provided, urging them both to leave nothing out from start to finish. The governess elegantly sat in the tall green chair and was thorough in her explanation, enough for Basil to prepare the next step in the process: asking his own questions. In his usual position, the good doctor stood with notepad in hand, scratching away everything he could gather from the elderly woman.

"Thank you, Mrs. DuPré." Basil turned to face the banker's daughter next; the sudden movement making a gasp escape her lips. "As for you, Miss Adams, you suspected it was the butler when he was the only one present during the robbery, correct?"

"Y-yes." She replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"And can you tell me what leads you to this suspicion?"

"I...I...um..." Miss Adams suddenly froze and turned as white as a sheet. Dawson tapped thoughtfully at the notepad and looked her over in concern. She stood at a similar height to Olivia Flaversham yet her appearance was far different with a pointier nose and bright green eyes. Her only armed possession was a book she clutched close to her chest. No one could see the front of the book when its back end was facing outward. Whatever it was, she held it tight and secure.

"My dear, are you all right?" Basil soon asked when noting her face had turn a lighter shade of pale. Frowning next, he turned to her governess. "Er, forgive me, Mrs. DuPré, but is this child ill?"

"No, she is not ill, Mr. Basil. A little nervous to be here, perhaps." The woman answered, giving Basil and Dawson looks of confusion. "I should have warned you both before our arrival. Mr. Adams' daughter is a theatre patron and she sees you and the doctor as...well...as individuals who are just as admirable as the ones she watches on the stage." Basil's eyes widened and his cheeks blushed while Dawson was not too far from the same reaction. That explained why she acted the way she did when she first walked through their front door.

"I...see." Basil swiftly turned his head downward to the girl whom by now felt as if she was standing next to a large ball of fire. Her face heated with embarrassment and she choked down a painful swallow. "So, this is why you wanted to accompany your governess, isn't it? Hmm?" He held a pleasant smile with the words, yet his eyes were giving off an intent stare that was making her uneasy. Miss Adams lastly caught a single raised eyebrow before she finally lowered her gaze to the worn rug. She could no longer look at those eyes, nor could she speak when her throat had gone completely dry.

"Yes, Mr. Basil." Mrs. DuPré answered with her own eyebrows lowering in much disapproval. "I almost was not going to bring her, having that be the case, but if I left her home, she would never speak to me again."

"And that would have been a crime of its own, no doubt." Basil cleared his throat and fixed his cravat. Looking back to Miss Adams, he could not help but smirk impishly at her. "All right, my dear, let me clarify one thing. We are not actors. We do, however, put on disguises to fool our audience, but it is when we are obtaining information in order to solve a crime. My associate's main profession is a surgeon while mine is a detective, therefore, both are nowhere near as entertaining as the folks you see on the stage. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Miss Adams said softly to the rug.

"Good." Basil turned away to reach for his pipe on the slipper. "Now, then, as I was saying--"

"C-can I still have your autograph?" She suddenly and boldly asked with the book slowly pulling away from her arms.

"What?" Basil almost dropped his precious pipe into the fireplace while Dawson snickered quietly in the corner. It was not the first time Basil was asked such a request from a child, and every time Dawson heard those innocent-sounding words, it only made him feel blessed that he knew someone with that much praise.

Miss Adams began to quietly explain. "It, it's just that my friends would never believe that I met you, a-and--"

"Young lady!" Mrs. DuPré barked, going straight into discipline mode. The child cowered away while the two bachelors flinched to the sudden outburst. "This good mouse is trying to help us and all you can think about is his fame? I taught you better manners than that! This is not Albert Hall!" While she chided and wagged a finger at the now frightened girl, Basil and Dawson exchanged rolling eyes of disbelief. "Now, I want you to apologize for being rude to our gracious host this instant!"

"I'm s-sorry." Miss Adams whispered, stealing a brief glance to the tall mouse.

Basil frowned and waved a hand. "Oh, no, it's--"

"Good girl, now, go wait for me outside. Go!" Mrs. DuPré ordered in a bellowed tone, not realizing she had just interrupted their 'gracious host.' The child bowed her head and scampered off to the exit. Basil looked to Dawson once more as he slowly put away the notepad, sensing that the meeting was over with the two ladies. "Oh, I do hope you can forgive her irrational behavior, Mr. Basil." Mrs. DuPré suddenly turned pink in the face with arms waving dramatically in the air. Basil stared at her ornate actions, wondering to himself if she really was an actress of the stage rather than a governess.

"Madame, of course, I can." He began with one hand gesturing freely. "It's quite all right, there was no harm--"

"No harm indeed!" She pressed abruptly, interrupting him for a second time. Basil dropped his brows, getting more irritated by the minute. "We came here to discuss a serious crime while all she wanted was a ruddy autograph. Really, this was not the time nor to place to ask such a request from you. Perhaps I should come back another time without her?" Upon hearing those words, not to mention the fact that the poor girl was standing alone outside, Basil finally accepted the meeting had indeed come to an end and shrugged a little. "Yes, tomorrow evening then. At six sharp, when she is busy at her violin practice, I will come."

"Er...as you wish, Madame." Basil perked up at the mention of 'violin practice' and beamed inwardly with pride.

"Thank you, Mr. Basil. And I also must apologize for that child's unruly behavior." As Mrs. DuPré turned to head up the stairs, Basil slowly walked over to Dawson to quietly take his pencil and apply it to the top of his ear. The woman was oblivious to his actions as she applied her hat and coat near the front door. "Mr. Adams will surely hear of this, and I can guarantee he will not be pleased in the least."

"I should say not, Mrs. DuPré..." Basil dropped his voice lower next to Dawson. "That is, he won't be pleased when only hearing her side of the story." Clearing his throat once more, he asked, "Uh, on your way out, would you mind sending the girl back in here for a moment? There is one more thing I'd like to say to her...privately, that is."

"Of course, Mr. Basil. Good day to you gents." Mrs. DuPré nodded, lifted her skirt and walked outside near the front of the main window. The two flinched once more at the sound of the woman shouting to the girl behind the closed door. Dawson could hear she was starting to go hoarse by then. He secretly hoped she would lose her voice to spare the child from further verbal abuse.

"Do you hear her out there?" He asked, thumbing to the door.

"I would have to be deaf not to, Dawson." Basil said with a sigh.

"What a horrid woman!"

"They usually are."

Dawson did not have to be reminded that Basil despised women and rarely treated them with much courtesy. Children, however, he was getting better with, and intended to show kindness to them whenever possible. Within the next minute, Miss Adams slowly returned per Basil's request and made her way down the small set of stairs. Basil placed his unused pipe back on the slipper and walked over to stand in the middle of the room. Upon seeing this movement, Miss Adams abruptly paused at the stairs and gripped the banister. Basil smiled pleasantly and extended his long, delicate fingers out to her.

"Y-you wanted to see me?" She asked in a quivering tone.

"Yes, do come here, please." Miss Adams looked to his extended hand and stared as if it were a mousetrap. Basil made a frown at his hand and looked back up at her. "What? I don't bite. Children are not very enjoyable to me. They lack in flavor, so you are quite safe."

Lifting a small smile now, she finally walked over and accepted his hand. The detective possessed a strong grip yet softened it when knowing he had taken hold of another much smaller and tender in comparison. Miss Adams looked down to examine his own hand. His fingertips bore faint acid stains and various colors from his many chemical tests and forensics. One finger had a light scar from where he pricked himself to do blood samples. Once she was close enough to his side, he removed his hand from hers and placed both arms behind his back. Miss Adams watched this movement and looked up at him, saying the first thing that came to mind.

"Your fingers have spots on them."

A single eyebrow went exceedingly high this time. "I beg your pardon?"

"What are those spots from?"

"What are you talking about?" Basil moved one arm back to the front to briefly stare at his fingers, rubbing the index, middle and thumb digits together. Sure enough, there were stains, something he never took note of for years. "Oh, those spots." He dully responded. "Huh...never really noticed them before, how observant of you."

"Is it a birth defect?"

"No, it's not a--" Basil scoffed with a sigh and roll to the eyes. _Children ask the most interesting questions at this age,_ he thought to himself. "No, it's not a birth defect." By now, low snickering appeared somewhere in the background. Pouting a bit, he firmly replied, "If your curious little eyes happened to see the many beakers and test tubes on that desk over there, you would have known that my work extends to science and chemical testing." Miss Adams dropped her jaw in astonishment.

"That's amazing!"

"Oh, piff, not really." He huffed with a shake to the head and a light sniff. "Um...now, enough about me and my supposed...congenital abnormalities...ahem! I called you back in here to clear up an earlier request...something about an...autograph?" Miss Adams looked around to see if this was some sort of trick as well as to make sure her governess was not watching from the front door. Dawson was the only mouse present in the room, and he soon became a quiet form by the stairs.

"Y-yes." She nodded and gestured down to her book. "I brought t-this..."

"So I see. Might I have a look at it, please?" It took some hesitation before she slowly pulled the book from her bosom and passed it up to him. Basil began to flip through the pages with eyes lighting up like a child's on Christmas morning. "Ahhh, well, I can definitely see what your governess meant when she confessed her little 'warning' to me. You've read it all, yes?"

"Yes, many times." She answered, her voice remaining soft and shy. "I've collected them all and so far, that one is my favorite."

"I must confess this is my favorite one as well." Basil smiled while turning to the title page of the book. "Many significant things happened both good and bad...the good triumphing over the bad, of course..." He looked to Dawson with a Cheshire grin before taking the pencil and writing something upon the page. "There you go, my dear." Basil handed her back the book and she took no time at reading the words along with his typical signature. He had an elaborate and often obscure style of penmanship, but she read it clearly and her tears of delight spilled over.

"Oh...thank you!" Miss Adams jumped forward and hugged his waist only to pull back in fright. "Oh! I'm s-sorry! I--"

"It's all right." Basil chuckled warmly. "After helping so many over the years, I have lost count on the number of times I've been shown that form of gratitude."

Her frown remained present. "Oh, but...doing this s-signing...I thought it was rude to ask you--"

"Your governess might have considered it rude, but I found it to be quite an honor. A child admiring a mere detective, who would have imagined it?" Basil had to say this with another light chuckle. "By the way, you've chosen a wonderful instrument to learn. It pleases me to know there is another violinist in the world."

Her eyes widened. "H-how did you know that?"

"Quite simple really. When I did this..." Basil lifted her left hand to hold it in his own once more. "I am just as observant as you. The hands of a violinist are very strong. They tighten and develop the muscles in their fingers after much use of switching them between the strings. Along with gripping and sliding the bow in the right, both hands get quite a bit of exercise. It is small yet effective movements in making beautiful music..." Winking, he added, "Your governess also happened to mention it on her way out."

"Oh." Miss Adams took her hand back to rub her fingers together. "Yes. I- I like to play, but Daddy thinks it's a waste of time."

"What a pity. Your father obviously has no taste for the arts." Basil said tartly, pausing to raise a finger at her. "Uh, please do not repeat that to him. Um, speaking of the violin, I myself love to play... I --" She smiled with a nod. "Ah, yes, you already knew that. Well, then, if you ever have any questions, you are more than welcome to come visit me and I will gladly help you. All right?" Miss Adams nodded again. "Very good. All right, then, I should not keep your dear governess waiting. You'd better run along now."

"Thank you, Mr. Basil." Miss Adams moved forward to hug his waist once more, this time she held on a little while longer. Basil muttered a quiet 'mm-hm' and lightly tapped her shoulder. As she turned away to reach the exit, she caught the doctor standing next to the stairs also bearing a simple smile.

"Take care, Miss Adams."

"Oh...Dr. Dawson, could you please...?" Holding her book out to him, he finally saw its title and gasped. It was a printed copy of his diary of the Flaversham case. Several cases had been published by then, making this one seem like old news. It was, however, a favorite to him as well.

"I most certainly will!" Basil was already approaching with the pencil in hand as if he knew to bring it over. Dawson took the pencil and proceeded to write a simple yet endearing message along with his standard signature. Miss Adams offered a quick waist hug before turning to run outside to meet with her governess. Dawson closed the door and turned to smirk at Basil whom looked very pleased with himself.

"Well, that certainly was an interesting visit, wasn't it Basil?" His response was a quiet grin of satisfaction. He was still beaming over the thought of a young one following in his musical footsteps. If not a musician, she would definitely make a good detective after examining his chemically-damaged fingers so closely. "Perhaps I should start setting up appointments to have our photos taken to sell to mice for autographs?" Basil finally rolled his head over to him with a face of the utmost annoyance. "I jest, of course!"

"Hardy har har. Really, Dawson. No one would want that...except perhaps Miss Adams, and, of course, the other one...Miss Flaverflam--"

"Flaversham."

"Whatever. In other words, there would be so few of them interested in our mug shots." On that note, he turned away to retrieve the pipe he had wanted to smoke since the start of the afternoon.

"All right, how about we start some sort of a...an appreciation society?"

Basil reacted as if a vile curse word had been uttered from the doctor. Once more the pipe almost dropped from his hands as he paused to slowly turn around. He formed an expression that meant Dawson had better leave the room if he wished to keep both his hearing and fur intact. Deep down, he knew some sort of organization should be created. If not himself starting one, someone was bound to do it, perhaps in later years when they had both passed on and his diaries became more popular to the public. For now, it seemed they were just a detective and a doctor located on Baker Street in London, nothing more.

"Well, I appreciate what you do, Basil." Dawson mumbled from the doorway as his friend sat down in his red chair. "And whether you realize it or not, millions of mice both young and old think the same way as I."

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A/N: This idea has been swimming around in my head for months, so I thought I'd give it a rest and create this very short story. I had been wanting to create it ever since reading the scene from "Basil in the Wild West" when a little girl asks Basil for his autograph. He signs her notepad while her father, Colonel Jim Gillen, has him sign a copy of "Basil and the Pygmy Cats." The idea at the end of Dawson suggesting an appreciation society came when reading about the real Sherlock Holmes Society of London. It started long after ACD could ever see it, nor Holmes himself would be able to if he were a real person. Although no official society currently exists for Basil, he's got quite a huge group of supporters, something any fictional character would be grateful for.

The OC name of Miss Adams was chosen as a random and simple one of no real significance. Mrs. DuPré, however, came from too many repeated showings of _Mrs. Doubtfire_ on the upper cable channels. At the very end, the mother and kids are interviewing a housekeeper with a harsh face explaining a long list of what she doesn't do ("I don't do laundry, I don't do windows, I don't do carpets, I don't do bathtubs, I don't do toilets, I don't do diapers..."). Her sharp, cold features kept appearing in my head as I typed out the governess that I decided to use her last name from the movie. Though, DuPré is actually the last name of Paula DuPré, an associate producer.


End file.
